


Three Snowstorms

by EldritchSandwich



Category: Tomb Raider (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, College, F/F, First Kiss, Fluffy Sandwich, Hallucinations, Holidays and Happy Endings 2016, Huddling For Warmth, Snowed In, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 18:59:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8929138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EldritchSandwich/pseuds/EldritchSandwich
Summary: Three snowstorms from the life of Lara Croft, each one of which brought her that much closer to Sam.





	1. Siberia, 2015

Lara Croft's cold. She's never been this cold in her entire life, not even on that mountaintop on Yamatai. _You're probably going to die out here_ , she tells herself. The voice sounds like her father's.

It's nothing like Yamatai. There's no one else to worry about, no friends, no crew, and a year's worth of practice toward doing stupid, suicidal things like this; she builds the shelter almost mechanically, dragging branches through the deep snow even as her arms go numb under her coat. When it's solid and she has a fire going, she practically collapses. She's so tired.

The downside to having no one to worry about, no crew to reunite with, no Sam to rescue, is that there's really nothing pushing her forward except her own stubborn pride. There's nothing to stop her from just lying down and letting the cold lull her to sleep, from letting all the horrible things she's seen and done sleep with her. Nothing to stop her from just never waking up.

Lara lets her eyes drift shut. _Sam_.

"Shh, it's okay. I'm right here, sweetie."

Lara's eyes shoot open. Then she blinks, but no, she's there, leaning down over her and wearing the same clothes she was wearing on Yamatai and smiling warmly enough to drive away the cold. Lara blinks again, just because she doesn't know what else to do. "Sam?"

"I'm right here, sweetie." She reaches out a hand, combs her fingers softly through Lara's half-frozen, snow-speckled hair. "Lara, listen to me. You need to stay awake, okay? You need to stay warm."

Lara shakes her head. She can feel fingers of cold and sleep at the edges of her mind just as clearly as she can feel Sam's in her hair. "You're not real," she mumbles. "You're not really here."

Sam frowns. "Sweetie, you need to keep your eyes open. I know you want to sleep, but it's not safe to sleep right now. You need to get your blood flowing again or you're going to get frostbite."

"I know," Lara mutters. Her eyes are still barely open, but she's forcing herself to sit up. "You're only telling me that because I know it already. You're just a hallucination..."

Sam smiles. "Well maybe that's because your subconscious knows I'm the only person who can get through to you when you get all stubborn and stupid like this."

Lara flinches as she strips off her wet, stiff gloves and holds her hands toward the fire. "Except that the real Sam hates me."

Sam frowns. "Lara. Sweetie, look at me..." Her hand reaches out to cup Lara's cheek, to force her to turn her head. God, her hand's so warm. "I could never hate you. You know that. You know how I..." Sam blushes. "Even if we never admitted it, you know."

Lara's face is heating up, a positive side effect of the matching blush. "That's just wishful thinking," Lara mutters. "You're not her, it doesn't mean anything."

Slowly, Sam's smile goes from melancholy to sly. "Well, if I'm not really her...then I guess I don't have to worry about ruining our friendship, do I?"

Lara's eyes go wide as Sam's nimble fingers undo the snaps and zipper of her coat and slide inside, rubbing warmth into the shaking skin of her chest and stomach. "Wh...what are you doing?"

Sam looks up at her with a devilish grin. "Warming you up."

Lara's cheeks are on fire now, and they're far from the only part. "This...this isn't real."

Sam giggles. "Well, someone should really tell _her_..."

Lara gasps as Sam's fingers slip between her coat and her shirt, carving a gentle outline around the nipple that's started to strain against her bra. "Sam, I..."

"I'm not real," Sam whispers, hot breath in her ear. "You can say it."

Lara swallows the lump in her throat. "I want you."

Sam pulls back to show her brilliant smile, hands digging inside Lara's jacket and pulling her closer. "Then take me."

Lara's shaking hand rises into Sam's shaggy hair and pulls her in for a kiss.

Unlike the feeling of Sam's hands working under her shirt and exploring the edges of her bra, Lara doesn't have to imagine what Sam's kiss would feel like. They've shared a handful that ranged from chaste to teasing, all of them back in university and most of them when they were drunk or at a club or just kidding around or whatever other excuse was on hand. In fact, the only time they've kissed without pretense, well...come to think of it, that was in a snowstorm too.

Sam lets out a soft sigh, opening her mouth, and Lara accepts the invitation to push the tip of her tongue into the other girl's warm mouth. Sam's left hand is under her bra now, sliding up to cup her, and the right is sliding down to undo her fly. Lara lets her own hands slide down from Sam's face, under her jacket, touching the slender body in ways she's spent almost four years now pretending she doesn't want to.

"Are you warm?" Sam murmurs against her lips. Lara nods enthusiastically, because she is warm. She's never been this warm in her entire life.

In the afterglow Lara lies on her side, her coat wrapped around her and the shelter warmed enough by the fire that she's willing to risk going to sleep. She can feel her hands again, warm and pink. And when she closes her eyes, she can feel them wrap around Sam's waist to pull her in. "I love you, Sam. I'm in love with you."

She falls asleep without hearing an answer.


	2. Yamatai, 2013

Lara Croft's cold. She's never been this cold in her entire life, not even that Christmas that she and Sam got snowed in with the freak blizzard and the broken heater. Her arms are shaking, bare in the wind and covered in scratches and open wounds; she can barely keep her gun up.

Another Solari runs at her, screaming, and she puts two bullets in his head without a thought. These people, these monsters, mean less than shit to her right now. There's only one thing that matters.

 _Sam_ , she thinks as she ducks under a Stormguard and buries her axe in the gap in its armor. It howls as it collapses.

 _Sam_. She still has a few shells for the shotgun, enough to take out the armored Solari who can't aim his bow because of the wind. It's so cold he hardly bleeds when she blows his arm off at the elbow. Frostbite.

 _Sam_. She drops two more with her pistol. _Sam_. An axe to the back of the knee. _Sam_. Headshot. _Sam_. Push toward the cliff and let the wind do the work. _Sam_. Blam.

There are more obstacles between her and Sam, bigger ones. The Oni. Mathias. Blam.

Himiko. Himiko, whose fault all this is, Himiko who took Sam and stranded them here and killed everyone who tried to help them, tried to help her. When she drives the torch into that dead, shriveled thing...that's when she finally feels warm.

She carries Sam down the mountain herself. Sam, alive and warm and breathing and beautiful, and by the time she gets back to the boat she's crying. She practically collapses into Jonah's arms as Reyes takes Sam, lays her out in the back of the boat. "Is she..."

"She's alive. She's fine. She's fine," Lara repeats, more to herself than to them.

As she turns her attention to pulling the boat out and angling it toward the sea, Reyes chuckles. "Well shit. She's lucky her girlfriend turned out to be John Goddamn McClane."

When the words filter through the adrenaline crash, Lara's eyes go wide. "What?"

Reyes looks back at her skeptically. " _Die Hard_? Christ, that figures."

Lara shakes her head. "No, I...girlfriend, it's not like that, we're not..."

Reyes chuckles even more skeptically. "Uh-huh. Yeah, that's definitely the vibe I'm getting."

Lara blushes. She can practically feel Jonah quietly smirking behind her. "We're just friends," she says weakly, almost believing it. Reyes' eyebrows go up.

"Wait, you're serious?" She turns to Jonah. "Did you know about this?"

Lara's trying to get her blush under control and failing. "So this whole time you thought Sam and I were..."

Jonah chuckles. "I keep trying to tell you, Little Bird."

Reyes shakes her head. "Okay, well, I'm just gonna drive the boat then. You...see to your 'friend.'" She smirks as she turns back toward the controls. "Maybe if you kiss the princess she'll wake up, hero."

Lara scowls, an expression that immediately evaporates when she turns her attention back to Sam. Now far too conscious of Reyes and Jonah at the bow, Lara hesitantly reaches out her fingers and combs them through Sam's hair. The flower crown the Solarii put on her got so tangled in her hair that it survived the descent, so now Lara sets about untangling and dismantling it, tossing the flowers and stems into the choppy black water one by one. When that reminder of their ordeal is gone, she turns her attention to cleaning off the grime on her face. Before she realizes it, that's turned into caressing it.

Lara's still blushing. Her fingertips are so rough, dirty and cut and callused and more than likely to stay that way forever now, and Sam's skin is so soft. Sam sighs, her head tipping toward the hand stroking her cheek, and Lara freezes. She'd die of embarrassment if Sam's eyes opened, but they don't, and in a way that's almost worse.

Lara leans in, warring between the need for privacy and the knowledge of how it will look to the others. She brushes the hair from Sam's forehead; she's done it before, because that hair refuses to stay under control. _Just like its owner_ , she thinks with a smile. Lara swallows the lump in her throat.

"You're safe, Sam," she murmurs. "You can wake up. You can come back." Her eyes cut toward Reyes and Jonah, but they're still facing the sea. She purses her lips. "Come back to me. Please."

She leans in, her lips just barely touching the corner of Sam's, soft and warm and reassuringly, unbelievably _there_. When she pulls back, Sam's eyes are open.

Lara's mouth drops open and stays that way, flapping helplessly as she tries to say...something, anything. But Sam...Sam just smiles. She smiles, and her hand brushes Lara's leg, and then her eyes close again.

As Lara collapses back against the side of the boat like the wind's been knocked out of her, she decides that that's enough.


	3. London, 2011

Lara Croft's cold. She's never been this cold in her life, not even that year she and Dad and Roth got trapped in the Highlands on that camping trip that they all agreed was the worst idea they'd ever had and thus could only be improved next year. But now her father and Roth aren't here, just Lara and her manic roommate.

"God, did you see outside? There must be a foot of snow out there! Is London always like this at Christmas?"

Lara can't help smiling. Sam's hopping up and down, swaddled in leggings and sweaters and socks as she tries to stay warm. Lara, on the other hand, is sensibly wrapped up in bed. "No, I'm afraid you're not seeing England at it's best. I apologize on behalf of my countrymen." Sam laughs, so at least there's that. "Any news about your flight?"

"Cancelled. Everything's cancelled. Which I guess is just as well because there's no way I could get to Heathrow without a dogsled." She turns around and gives Lara an awkward smile. "Guess we're spending Christmas together, huh?"

Lara smiles. "Could be worse. Speaking of which—"

"Worse?"

"Christmas. I...I was planning to do my shopping this week, but..."

Sam raises a judgmental eyebrow. "So I'm trapped here with a broken heater, and I don't even get a Christmas present? Typical." Lara frowns, and just like that Sam's bounding over to her, jumping onto her bed and throwing her heavily besweatered arms around her. "Oh hey, sweetie, I'm just kidding! Don't feel too bad. I ordered you something online, and that's obviously not going to get here. We'll just have to be each other's presents."

Lara's mouth quirks. She's not entirely sure what that means, but knowing Sam it's probably designed to embarrass her. Said roommate exhales, Lara's skin prickling as the hot breath caresses her neck. She's still not used to how handsy Sam is; what with most of the people close to her being gruff older men, it's been a long time since anyone spent a great deal of time touching her with affection. Before Sam, she'd almost forgotten how good it felt just to be held.

"God, I'm freezing! I'm wearing six layers, how am I this cold?"

Lara sighs. "Because you're still surrounded by cold air. You need to surround yourself with something loose enough to let a pocket of self-reinforcing warm air form around you."

Sam scoffs. "Nerd."

Lara rolls her eyes. "You need to take off all those clothes and get under the blankets with me."

Sam leans back, eyes going wide. "Lara! I am not that kind of girl!" Lara's eyes go wide too, and she tries to sputter out an apology or an explanation even as Sam starts laughing. "Oh, sweetie. You are too much fun to torment."

Lara tries to scowl. "Glad to be of service."

Sam keeps chuckling as she peels off her top two sweaters. "Move over."

Far too aware now of the fact that she just asked Sam to strip off and climb into bed with her, Lara makes a conscious effort not to watch her undress. That means staring stubbornly at the pattern on her duvet, trying to ignore the occasional article of clothing that flops down into her view. She doesn't budge until Sam tugs on the edge of the blankets. Lara looks up, sees her roommate in her undershirt and knickers, and blushes. Sam just laughs and shakes her head as she lifts the covers and burrows into Lara's nest.

"You need to lighten up, Croft." Sam's arms wrap around her waist and Sam's legs press against the backs of hers, and Lara starts.

"And you need to warm up, Nishimura. You're freezing!"

"So warm me up," Sam murmurs in her ear, and Lara's glad Sam can't see her blush.

"You know I'm taller than you," Lara huffs. "Why exactly am I the little spoon?"

"Would you believe I slept with a teddy bear until I was seventeen? I can't sleep unless I have something to hold on to." Lara frowns, and Sam giggles like she can see it. "This is the part where you say 'Glad to be of service.'"

"It's half-six," Lara says instead. "We're not going to sleep."

"It's pitch black out," Sam shoots back. "Besides...what else could two hot, scantily-clad college girls possibly do in bed together?" Lara stiffens and goes red, and Sam laughs again. "Merry Christmas, Lara. I got you embarrassment."

"Wish I'd gotten you the same," Lara mutters, and Sam hums smugly.

"Oh, they don't make it in my size."

Lara just shakes her head. At least Sam's starting to warm up against her. "Sorry it doesn't exactly look like Christmas in here. I've been busy."

She's surprised to feel disappointment when Sam pulls away. "Oh! I have something for that, hang on!" Lara watches in confusion as Sam spins around in the blankets, burrowing down to the other end of the bed and sticking her arm out and down over the edge. When she tunnels back up to Lara, she's brandishing a red paper bag and a grin. "Ta-dah!"

Lara just blinks as she reaches into the bag, rips something open, and emerges with a handful of tinsel. Before Lara can object Sam tosses it into the air, covering the duvet and the floor surrounding the bed and even their hair. Lara scowls to hide a smile. "Are you serious?"

"Wait, that's not all...ah!" Sam pulls out a sprig of greenery. Lara's eyes go wide when she recognizes it. "I was going to hang it up in the doorway, but since it looks like we're going to be spending the entire holiday huddled up here we might as well get one use out of it, right?"

Lara squeals as Sam hoists the mistletoe over their heads and leans down toward her. "Sam, stop," she manages to say through her laughter.

"Come on, Lara, it's tradition! You're an archaeologist, you're supposed to love traditions!"

"One, you're confusing archaeology and anthropology. Again. Two, I'm not—mmf!"

The rest of Lara's words disappears into Sam's mouth. The kiss isn't perfectly-aimed since Lara was still moving around, barely more than half-on. But it still makes them both freeze.

When she pulls back, Sam's blushing. "Sorry. I was just kidding, I didn't mean to—"

"No, it's fine." Lara shakes her head. "I mean...you're right. It's a tradition, it's not...it doesn't mean—"

"Right."

In the ensuing silence, Lara becomes very aware that she and Sam are now face to face instead of front to back, legs tangled and heaving chests pressed together courtesy of their horseplay. She's never had anyone's body intertwined with hers like this, to say nothing of another girl's. All she knows is that she sure as hell doesn't feel cold anymore. In fact, she's never been this warm in her entire life.

"Sam?"

"Mm?"

Lara swallows the lump in her throat. "It is a tradition. So...we ought to do it properly. Right?"

Sam's lips purse. "Right."

Lara tips her head down. Sam tips hers up.

For a few seconds, neither of them moves. Then Lara feels Sam's lips start to shift, soft and warm and ever so slightly open. She follows suit, and a quiet shudder goes through her because now she can feel Sam's breath hot against her mouth. Sam's hands are still on her waist, but Lara raises her right to Sam's cheek, angling her face upward so she can nip gently at Sam's bottom lip. Sam's body rolls gently against hers, then relaxes, a delicate sigh escaping her lips. When Lara pulls back from the kiss, Sam's eyes flutter open, pitch black in the weak light of the lamp on Lara's desk.

For a few seconds, neither of them moves. Eventually, Sam clears her throat. "There. That's better."

Lara nods. "Right. Tradition observed."

"Maybe we should...get up and have something to eat?"

Lara squirms a little against their warm cocoon. "Well...we don't know how long we'll be snowed in. We should probably try to conserve food."

Sam nods. "Right. That makes sense."

Lara licks. "Why don't we just...try to get a little sleep?"

"That sounds good."

"Right." Lara fidgets. "Do you...want me to turn around?"

Sam shifts too, their arms and legs and chests still in continuous contact. "No...I mean, this is fine."

"Right. Well...good night."

Sam's head drops into the crook of Lara's neck, a breath through her nose tingling against the bare skin. "Good night."

And so Lara lies there and holds her, listening to the silence of the falling snow, feeling more awkward and more at peace than she ever has in her life. She's sure Sam's fallen asleep when suddenly she feels the arms around her waist tighten, pulling her even closer. "Lara?"

"Hm?"

"Merry Christmas."

As the breathing against her chest slows, Lara smiles. "Merry Christmas, Sam."


End file.
